Starting a story
by Ky03elk
Summary: With a new season comes a new story and their story this year is undeniably dancing to a different song. A look at how their lives have changed, the moments that occur away from our eyes, as they establish a definition of them that is...more. Episodes 6x01 to 6x04 and the promos (US and Canadian) for 6x05.
1. Chapter 1

Neither Castle or One Republic belong to me

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Covers 6x01 through to 6x04 and the Promo's (US and Canadian) for 6x05

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* * *

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_I had a dream the other night, About how we only get one life, _

_Woke me up right after two, Stayed awake and stared at you, _

_So I wouldn't lose my mind._

_.  
._

His breath catches sharply in his chest, eyes snapping open, yet as they focus on the ceiling above his head, he sees nothing but black; the dark of his room descends and squeezes down on him some more.

Darkness tinged with red.

There's a thundering in his ears that escalates as he comes to, an internal thumping that sets his teeth on edge; the haze of sleep disappears abruptly as his mind shakes off the shackles of slumber, fights its way free of his nightmare.

Memories of falling to the ground– the deadly toxin pumping through his system– have combined with Kate laying upon the bright green grass, warm blood pulsating between his fingers as each beat of her heart had forced more out, and it continues to overwhelm him.

He can still see the splash of crimson as if it's painted across his ceiling; his fingers feel hot and sticky as they push against the covers, her name tumbling from his lips in vain.

Everything was in vain.

They may only have one life to live, but too often it has been the case that they've nearly lost theirs. They have nearly lost each other and this thought has him upright.

He had come close to dying, had come close to leaving her just as their life together was starting, and again, no air can make its way down to his lungs, caught in the constriction formed inside his throat. His body becomes motionless as he sits, stunned.

He knows what it is to face a life without her, the emptiness that stretches- a barren plain of despair. Would it have been the same for her? Two rings chiming as one around her neck, joined in all that she had lost? Would it have weighed her down?

Would they lie against her naked skin and remind her of all the promises that he hadn't kept? All the ways he had let her down, deserted her, left her alone without her partner in life? Would they whisper hollow words as they brushed along her chest? Declare over and over against her skin, all the ways his death had failed her?

Scrubbing a hand across his face, he turns and glances down. He's grateful that she remains caught in her own dream world, oblivious to the turmoil that has him alert– conscious at this ungodly hour.

Stretching out his arm, he reaches for his cell, activates it for a second, and looks long enough to see that the time has drifted past two. Sighing he lifts his shoulders, shrugging at the early morning wakefulness, at the slim chance of going back to sleep.

The thought of closing his eyes and allowing those images to form again results in a shudder that starts low and rises until it shatters his heart completely. If he lets the pictures take control, gives them the ability to run away with the story they are desperately trying to produce, they are going to swallow him whole. Gnaw at him from the inside; leave his psyche tattered and raw.

Forcefully shaking himself, he hears a soft grunt float up from beside him and twisting again to face her, the nightmare gradually recedes; it's chased to the corner of the room as Kate's features replace the terror that had assaulted him.

Her nose wrinkles adorably, movements induced from her own sleepy visions, and fearing the worst, he runs a finger across the soft skin of her forehead. They share so much, their brain waves often in sync, and he fears that his own horror has invaded her subconscious, and formed her own incubus.

His hand blazes a path over her skin, heat radiating from even the simplest of touches, and he coasts his fingers up until he can weave them through the silky strands that frame her face.

Sliding back down, he shifts his large frame as gently as he can, and leaning his body toward hers, he aligns himself so that her internal heat can seep its way through the clothes that separate them, can warm the chill that flickers in remembrance within his chest.

He inhales deeply; the scent of her body wash, of her, encompasses him and he sinks further into the pillow that's resting under his head; a head that's slowly becoming heavy as he watches her in sleep.

He smiles, his cheek scratching against the pillow; he could lie here all night, happily greet the morning– her presence enough to bring peace to his mind, a calmness to his soul.

* * *

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_And I had the week that came from hell, And yes I know that you can tell,_

_But you're like the net under the ledge, But I go flying off the edge,_

_You go flying off as well_

_._

_._

She stands still; stands and contemplates the vast outlay before her; nothing but open sky, and the bright blue vision almost brings tears to her eyes.

It's either that, or the situation she has found herself in.

It has been a crushing week; the elation she had felt as she'd tightly clutched the newly created key to her chest had splinted before her, and lay shattered in a million pieces across the distance between McCord and herself.

It's more than just the despair of losing her job; the opportunities that had appeared so shiny and new when she had originally walked through those hallowed doors on her first day.

She is now without direction, without focus and it's eating her up inside. What is she without the badge? Without her gun? Without the power to help?

Clenching her fists, nails biting into the tender flesh of her palm, she reminds herself to pay attention; this is hardly the time or place to get lost in her own thoughts. To be bogged down in the hell that had been her life since she'd shown up at her former place of employment.

She had been forced to keep secrets from the people she considers her family, forced to go against rules and regulations that had governed her job– _her former job– _just to get justice. She had knowingly jeopardized everything to protect the victim's loved one, and a wave of panic crashes over her. She had known, hadn't she? Had known what she was risking when she had made that call.

Fingers lightly ghost along her wrist and they pull her from her thoughts and their wicked downward spiral. Castle stands at her side, skin touching skin as he anchors her to the present, pulls her from the past.

He has been nothing but a steady rock, reading her like an open book, like she is _his_ open book and a smile tugs at the corner of her lips.

He can tell exactly where she is at; knows her thoughts have drifted from where they need to be and she allows her mouth to curve in a smile, teeth flashing white as she takes him in. She wants to give back to him what she has received, from having him stand by her side, from having him in her life. A constant touchstone.

"So, while there is no safety net, the cord will catch you." The instructor's words break through their bubble and she turns to focus on the last of their briefing. "There's a moment of free falling, where the cord is slack, but it will stretch and catch you. I promise."

Castle chuckles beside her, it's more nervous than funny, and she waits for it, knows him well enough to know that it's coming. "Well if it doesn't, expect my ghost to write one hell of an angry complaint letter!"

She smirks at his words, is grateful that he has the ability to loosen the tightness that had begun creeping across her chest. She speculates for a second, ponders over the fact that they have completely gone insane; can't grasp _why_ they are about to do _what_ they are about to do!

"That's Apparition-American, Castle." Her voice may be tight, squeezed out through the narrowest of openings, but the laugh that explodes from her fiancé is worth it.

He stares at her, eyes locking, and she realizes that while he may be throwing all his humor in to the situation, he's just as terrified as she is to be standing here. Sweat pools at the base of his throat, beads across his forehead, and she lifts a hand, sweeps it to one side.

"Castle, if my cord snaps, be my net. Jump and catch me."

Her words make him brave, his chest expanding as it puffs in caveman-like pride, head nodding as he takes the responsibility seriously; his job to protect her in all the ways that she lets him.

"I've got your back, Beckett!"

Inching forward, she listens to the last minute instructions, eyes forward as she breathes it in. The feeling of panic. Being out of control. Letting life happen to her, rather than her normal approach of being the one to dictate the hows of it all.

Her feet can feel the edge of the ledge, the open space that lies before her, lies underneath and she takes another deep breath; the male voice to her right sounds distant as he encourages her to go when she is ready. To simply step off into nothing.

Castle's fingers trace along her ear, his lips pressing hard against her cheek, as if he could push his love into her, and her back straightens with the knowledge he's right beside her. _Always_.

"You've got this, Beckett."

As he steps back, and she steps forward- because she has this- she puts aside the fact that there are going to be moments when her situation will become too much; the weight of the world will no doubt creep up on her and push her down.

Because here in this moment, she has this, has him ready to jump off a ledge just to follow her down, and she hits nothing but air as she steps forward.

* * *

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A.N: So this happened because as much as I have loved writing So much more to lose, I truly miss writing The distance between two. And while I have probably shot myself in the foot by having written this *two shot* now, hopefully by the hiatus I can come up with a new idea! (Someone remind me that if Kate is pregnant by the end of the season to name the next 'missing moment' fic- The distance between three ;)

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Big thanks to honeyandvodka for making me make sense with all things spelling and grammar

and to Caskett1 for reading and spotting my goofs!

Also to louisemcdoogle for her help with bungee jumping!

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You comments-reviews are valued!


	2. Chapter 2

_._

_And if you only die once I wanna die with, You got something I need,_

_In this world full of people there's one killing me, And if we only die once I wanna die with you._

_._

_._

Rick pushes his body through the throng of officers, detectives, and anyone else who may or may not have heard his declaration that drinks were on the house tonight, and a feeling swells deep inside his heart.

It pushes gradually to the surface; the knowledge that while for some it may be about the free beverage, for the majority, it is because they are here to celebrate Beckett's return to the twelfth, maybe even to celebrate his own return to the Precinct. And it's these thoughts that infuse him with pride, chest expanding over how much she has been missed, how much she is adored, and even the throb of the bullet's impact is nothing more than a dull ache as he basks in the scene before him.

He watches everyone as they chatter happily amongst themselves; glasses clinking as they are knocked against each other, thrown back in enjoyment, and he lifts his own tumbler of scotch as he finally reaches his own group of people and is swallowed whole by his family.

"Dude, you're moving a hell of a lot slower these days!" Esposito's words are said in jest, but Beckett lifts a hand, glides it across his shirt in a feather like motion. It's enough that he can feel the flame between them lick at the edges, desire coiling low and he wonders just how many 'two fingers' he has already consumed this evening. He notes to himself that he should probably start winding back- they have work tomorrow.

"I'll have you know, Espo that I move damn fast when it counts." He says the words in complete seriousness, thoughts of wrestling for the gun are lingering at the front of his mind, yet loud snorts of laughter fill the space between them. Reviewing his words, he realizes that he has done a Beckett and left himself wide open with that declaration.

"Funny, guys. That's not what I meant!"

Beside him, Kate releases a low hum, and all eyes turn to her, and they witness her skin flushing pink, head ducking forward so that a curtain of hair hides the embarrassment of being caught out vocalising her agreement.

If anyone had any doubts about their activities behind closed doors, she erases it with her next words.

"Oh, you are only fast when it's required, Castle."

Mouths open in shock, and he peers at her glass, speculates on how much she has consumed tonight, but she shrugs in indifference. Making eye contact she beams up at him, and he realises she's happy, she's in love and is more than willing to be the butt of some jokes if it means she gets to express that.

_Damn, this woman will kill him._

The newest member of their group speaks up, stuttering, his words tripping over each. "It must have been... I mean it would have been... Were you shit scared over dyin'... I mean nearly dyin'... Cause you didn't...right?!" Sully asks.

The rest of the group share a laugh as Rick waves a hand to dismiss the statement.

"This? This is nothing! We were almost eaten by a tiger once!" Castle goes to throw an arm around Beckett's shoulder but as his hand gets half way up her back, he freezes as the pain stabs him sharply across his shoulder. Sensing his distress, Kate completes the task for him, wiggles down, inserting herself into his side, a hand again finding its rightful place above his heart, her ring catching the overhead lights, and it sparkles beautifully.

Everything sparkles beautifully at the moment, pain be dammed.

"Yeah, but circumstances are different now and you've got something I need!" Kate snuggles gently within his arms and her words are said lovingly, but the others take them and run with it.

"His bank account?"

"His Ferrari?"

"His mad skills in the bedroom?"

Wait a moment. How does Lanie know what he's like in the bedroom?

Twisting his head awkwardly he stares at Kate, watches as her mouth opens and closes in indignation over their words, before she corrects them.

"My future, guys. The need I have for the rest of our lives to be together!" She shakes her head and picks up his earlier thread of conversation.

"Anyhow, there have been plenty of times we have nearly died together-" Her words come to a halt as the others chime in over the top of her.

"Stuck in a freezer!"

"Nose diving into the Hudson!"

"Facing a nuclear bomb!"

Castle and Beckett shake their heads as one, humor at their friends antics takes over, and she speaks louder to be heard.

"My point was... While there have been times we have faced the worst, and have nearly died more than once, we have faced it all together. And now we are back, we will continue to face things together.

Rick raises his arm as high as he can get it, holds his drink aloft as he waits for the others to join him; glasses chime as they brush against each other.

"To being back!"

"To being together!"

"To dying with you!"

"To not dying at all!"

* * *

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_Last night I think I drank too much, Call it our temporary crutch,_

_With broken words I tried to say, Honey don't you be afraid,_

_If we got nothing we got us (Yeah)_

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_._

She watches through the glass of the shower, smirks a fraction at the image before her, the way he groans as the water cascades down, washing the night away.

It had been one hell of a night. Everyone coming together to rejoice in her–_their_–return to the Twelfth, to revel in all the _new_ things that are now in their lives, yet this morning as the alarm had noisily prattled from the bedside table she regrets, just a little, partying to such a degree.

She appears, at least, to not be the only one who drank too much last night.

Castle scrubs both hands across his face and moaning in displeasure, he slumps forward, placing a cheek against the cool wall of the shower; does his best to remain upright.

Last night's overindulgence was a rarity for them, and Kate can't help but wonder how much of their celebrations had been less about celebrating and more of a temporary crutch. A way for them to forget unwanted memories– lying motionless, a bullet to the chest. To try and forget how close it could have been, how close it has been.

They had joked last night, kidded about the fact they've come so close, so many times, to losing their lives, losing each other, and she thinks they both may have needed to blow some of those unwanted– terror inducing– images away.

Tip-toeing across the tiled floor, she slithers in beside him, startling him out of his own contemplation, and a high pitched yelp echoes around the room.

"Sorry, Castle. Didn't mean to _scare _you."

He huffs at her statement and using both palms, he pushes himself away from the wall, stands upright so he can shuffle over; makes room for her under the hot water.

"You want to start your first day back with a bang?" His thigh pushes its way between her own and she tries not to laugh at the absurdity of his question. Even if they had time– which they don't– she hardly thinks they're up for the task. The pounding that is occurring within her head, is no doubt happening inside his own.

Running her fingertips along the plains of his torso, she watches as a shiver breaks out across his skin and maybe she is wrong about how much he is suffering this morning. Either that, or her being here is an incentive- the perfect elixir to what ails him.

Shifting her closer, his large frame dwarfing hers, his hands and lips coast across her smooth skin, pushing the continuous drumming of her hangover to one side, and she cants into him, basks in this opportunity.

If she lives to a hundred, she hopes she never stops being in awe of moments like this, the two of them, together.

Twisting within his embrace, she peppers her own lips across his chest, kisses the bruising from his vest- from the bullet- as it radiates out from the central point of impact. Her open mouth caresses the blemish, follows the tentacles of colour that creep and mar his beautiful wide chest, and she covers them all. Continues until she has made them all better, and whispering breathlessly, she asks, "You ready for today?"

He places both hands against her temples and moving his fingers- tugging at the strands- he forces her hair away; brings her eyes up so they can gaze into his.

"I think so. It'll be like old times...right?" he quietly answers her with his own question, forehead bumping into hers, and they cringe as one, the movement causing their self-inflicted pain to leach between them.

Taking a deep breath, Kate searches for words, wants to place the right amount of weight to the situation, to express all that is stuck, jumbled in a knot within her mind.

"It will... but no... because of all that's changed... but is still the same." Her face contorts in frustration; he is so much better at expressing what needs to be said, can form sentences that generally make sense. "I just... " The words halt, get lodged again, and she wants to say that there is nothing to be afraid of, that despite his recent string of close calls, she will have his back, will always be there fighting for him, for them.

She wants so desperately for him to know how much she has truly missed him as her partner, not just in life, but at work. How building theory is so much easier when she's doing it with him; how she walks into a situation stronger knowing that he is by her side.

She wants to reassure him, that the ring on her finger has only enhanced who they are. It has taken the separate parts of them and has made them more. More happy. More open. More... whole. For the first time in a long time she feels complete and not because of him, she knows that that has to come from inside. No, it's because of his support, his love, his belief in her, in all that she can do separately, as well as together, and it's given her the foundation to find those things within herself.

"It's us, Castle. And if we have nothing but that, it will be enough. More than enough."

She lifts both hands so they can mirror his, places them on either side of his face, fingers trailing through the lines that make him perfect in her eyes.

"So being more than just us... Being back as partners in everything, it'll be..." Her eyes lift to examine the ceiling as if it holds the end to her declaration, but Castle comes to the rescue.

"We'll be great."

She shakes her head, remembers the last time he had declared those words, remembers that it hadn't been all that they had thought it was going to be.

As if sensing her need for a better explanation, he tries again, "Spectacular?"

A corner of her mouth lifts, lets him know that he is getting close, and he pushes his mouth sharply into hers, as if he needs the inspiration that is them.

Jerking back just as abruptly, his grin is wide, teeth flashing in apparent satisfaction, as he stares down at her. Pulling a hand free from her hair, he uses it to weave his fingers through her left ones, moves them along his face until he can dot tiny kisses onto the ring that unites them, that will give them their always.

"We'll be epic!"

She laughs softly at his statement, and bringing her mouth so that it can hover next to his, she declares, _promises_, "We'll be us."

* * *

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_I know that we're not the same, But I'm so damn glad that we made it,_

_To this time, this time, now._

_If we only die once I wanna die with, If we only live once I wanna live with you__._

_._

_._

His eyes shine brightly as he looks at the murder board, contains the giggle of glee that desperately wants to escape. Their murderer is most likely a time traveling killer, and could this case possibly get any better?

"I hate this case!" Beckett's words are nearly a whine and he turns, observes the way she cradles her head between her palms, drags her fingers through her curls. He forces down the urge to brush a hand across her back, wants nothing more in this moment than to comfort her, reassure her that he is here, but he values his working relationship enough to contain it, takes a more indirect approach.

"You want a coffee?"

Pivoting a fraction, her eyes catch his and a smile graces her face. His inquiry is enough to lighten the weight that had steadily pushed at her shoulders, a pressure that only increases the longer they sit here with nowhere to move forward, no new leads to follow.

He's not worried though, _not much_, the events of this one have been fascinating, ever since they first got the call about the body drop, and he adores the enjoyment that the crazy ones bring. He has faith that with enough time they will do what they do best; put the pieces of the puzzle together until a picture is created.

He loves that they don't approach the circumstances surrounding a case the same way. While she is straining to make the evidence conform to reality, his imagination is forming a story so far left of real, that it's almost funny. He loves that they will begin bringing their equal halves to the table, swap and trade ideas until the problem is solved, the murderer unmasked. He loves those moments. He lives for those moments.

"Hey, earth to Castle."

His thoughts fracture and he shakes his head, realizes he had forgotten that he had just asked her a question.

"Ohh, maybe my mind was crossing through dimensions. Tracking down the travelling killer as he drifted through time-space continuums?"

Her snort of disbelief has several passing officers looking in their direction, but she remains oblivious to it all, remains focused on him.

"As twisted as your mind is, I don't think the answer to our problems will be discovered as a result of that."

She lifts an eyebrow, lips pushing up as she shines in his direction, eyes bright with happiness despite the heaviness that had been forcing itself down on her mere moments ago. For all that he misses her eye rolls of the past, the way she would huff and puff at his outlandish ideas, he would never trade the way she is looking at him now.

They have come so far. Have made it so far together.

And in this moment, in this time, right here, right now, he's forever grateful that she had showed up at his book launch all those years ago. That through all the hard times, summers apart, third parties, freezers, bombs and bullets, they can now live their lives together as one.

Enjoy early morning showers, coffee shared from the one cup, rides into work together, swapping sections of their lunch, late nights side by side as they unravel mysteries, evenings spent unwinding with a glass of red, drifting off to sleep, limbs interwoven.

He's thankful that he gets to live his life with her.

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_Finished_

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Thank you so much to everyone that reviewed,

And also to those that made it a favourite or followed xoxo

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Big thanks to honeyandvodka for making me make sense with all things spelling and grammar

and to Caskett1 for reading and spotting my goofs!

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You comments-reviews are valued!


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